


It's Different

by xKimbitx



Category: A - Fandom, Alice Morgan - Fandom, Alice x John, John Luther - Fandom, John x Alice, Luther - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Luther - Freeform, Luther Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xKimbitx/pseuds/xKimbitx
Summary: Based on S5 Episode 1. DCI Luther was definitely not expecting this Visitor.





	It's Different

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello Sweeties! I'm basically still crying from the Luther Finale so I had to write a fic... or two! Haha. This one is terribly angsty and drama filled but also a little dark. There is mentions of assault and violence so please tread lightly. I had to get this idea out. I hope you all enjoy and you don't hate me too much! Toodle Pip!

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Detective Chief Inspector John Luther finally turned the key to his front door and walked inside, walking upstairs to the kitchen. He flicked the kettle on out of habit more than anything else, he doubted he’d bother actually making himself a cup. The case had left him exhausted and quite agitated, it had came to a close far too quick and with a relatively clean ending – something was off. However, tonight he needed to sleep and when he realised his head had made it’s way to the table he sat at, the cold was a welcome feeling on his banging headache and soon enough he had fallen asleep.

 

He was hauled out of slumber by a violent knocking on the door, who could possibly be visiting him at this hour? There was no one left to come calling, well, he had Benny but he knew for a fact that his Irish colleague and the best friend he had would be sleeping at this time or too deep into a video game of some kind to be at his door.

His hand reached for his phone, hoping to see some kind of clue or message to explain this visitor but when he found nothing and the banging continued he was forced to investigate. Before making it to the stairs he was reminded of his encounter with George Cornelius and his gang of delinquents (Utter idiots more like) and decided to retrieve his Dad’s gun, he was in no mood for anymore games this night or rather – very early morning he remembered from looking at his phone.

When he got to the door he looked through the peephole and found no one, his blood began to boil and he was very certain that if some kids where playing some kind of ring and run he would find them and arrest them. Swinging the door open his eyes found someone entirely different, someone that made his blood run cold and his heart stop. The formation of words was completely lost to him and all he could do was stare, his mouth agape in utter shock.

Thankfully the Woman in front of him was never lost for words, even now as she leaned against his door almost panting for air – she was injured. Even still she kept her humour and let icy blue eyes meet his. **“Wotcher”**

If things had been normal he would’ve smiled in fond recognition, he might even have laughed but things were different now. Alice noticed immediately that his face didn’t change at all, she was almost certain that her little hark back to their past would have earned her even at least a slight upturn of his lips, but she had of course been prepared for if it didn’t.

 **“Don’t pretend you’re not pleased to see me.”** She said with her usual sarcastic head tilt, like she needed an answer.

 **“I’m not. I’m a bit surprised you’re alive.”** Blunt, harsh, right that’s fine she can play that way too, her body is getting desperate, she cant stand here much longer. She gave a sigh before removing her eye contact and answering back.

 **“Well, I didn’t come looking for joy unconfined, just a place to hide, maybe a cup of tea, and a chocolate digestive-“** She pulled the gun on him just as her breath gave out and she breathed the word like a common beggar. **“Please.”** Her eyes just as pleading as her voice. Then he had to go and pull his own gun out and before she could finish a witty remark to his refusal, her legs finally gave way. For a heartbeat John panicked, had Alice Morgan really just returned from the dead only to die in his arms? He relaxed as he easily picked her up and felt the blood seeping her shirt, it was low on her side and he was certain it hadn’t hit any major organs or she wouldn’t be here now. Of course she would be okay.

She breathed the smallest sigh of relief when he caught her, not that she left him with much choice, it was blatantly obvious he didn’t want her here and it was made so much clearer when he threw her down on the bed with no care for her wound. The huff and scowl she gave as she looked to him did little do cover the pain she was in, _how pathetic_ , she thought briefly before John unzipped her jacket.

Her breath hitched involuntarily and her eyes closed quickly when his hands neared her gunshot wound but felt herself relax when he gathered first aid supplies, so he would help her after all. She wasn’t entirely prepared for what he said next but, she wasn’t entirely surprised either, what else could she really truly expected?

**“Alice? I don’t want anything to do with it. I want you patched up and out the door, do you understand me?”**

She remained silent, considering and weighing her options, all the while a new pain found its way into her chest at his words which did little but anger her further. Why was it that the man in front of her caused her such agony, she knew the answer but refused to accept it, couldn’t allow the weakness of it, not now.

 **“So, what happened?”** Brought out of her thoughts by the question she knew was eventually coming she shrugged ever so slightly as she watched him put the tweezers into her wound, searching for the pellets that pained her so. “A big boy done it and ran away.”

**“Let me guess, one of George’s? We had our own little chat.”**

**“Ah.”** Was all she said before going deadly silent and his brows furrowed in confusion, where was the anger filled snap about George? Where had her yells of pain gone? **“When I say chat, be beat the living hell out of me.”** Still gaining no response, not even a snide remark about him getting beat up, he twisted the sharp metal very slightly gaining a loud **“OW!”** as her fingers tightened around his bed sheets. Something was different.

He ignored it though, like he said he wanted nothing to do with it, she wasn’t his problem anymore. Putting the bloodied bits of cloth into a plastic bag and handing her a bit of gauze, he noticed a spot of blood at the hem of her trousers and sighed before moving to pull them down ever so slightly to clean what he had missed.

Alice’s hand shot up to stop him, her nails digging into his skin and he yelled out in shock, physical closeness anywhere was never a problem around Alice his gaze shot up to meet her own **“Alice what the bloody hell-“** _Wait._ He saw something. His gaze snapped back to their hands which only slightly covered the purpling marks on her hip, as his heart rate quickened into a choking pace, he prayed that her eyes would dismiss the thought that blackened his mind.

**“Alice. Did he... hurt you?”**

She didn’t say a word nor meet his gaze, instead her eyes were trained on the floor, tears she would _never_ allow to fall burning her the white of her eyes into an angry red. This was all the answer he needed and now all he wanted was for her to snap back at him with anything, he needed her to do something.

Then in a flash she had ripped her hand from his and was trying to get off the bed, wincing as she did so. **“Well, John, Like you said patched up and out the door! Thank You for your help, even without the cuppa, I think we’re even now.”**

 **“Alice. Stay, please.”** His voice had shifted to gentle and low, it made her feel again, that pang in her chest that almost made her lie back down. In reality she really did need to rest a bit more but she would not stay here with him if she wasn’t wanted, her whole body ached as she spoke quietly only turning to him to gauge if his reply was true.

**“I’ll stay if _you_ want me to.” **

**“I do. I really do. Please just-“** Let me help you was what he was so desperate to say but stopped himself, not wanting to anger or insult her at all right now. Right now he just wanted her safe.

She lay back down, smiling ever so slightly as her head met the hard but soft pillow – trust John to have pillows exactly like him. **“Excellent.”** Was all she breathed out and finally let her exhausted eyes close.

It felt like a cold knife through his heart when she said that and he wished more than anything they could be back in her apartment, becoming accomplices and making plots. But it was so very different now…


End file.
